


through the embers (through the rows)

by StrangerHarringroves



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Billy Hargrove Being an Asshole, Billy Hargrove Is Bad at Feelings, Billy Hargrove Tries to Be a Better Person, Bottom Billy Hargrove, Cigarettes, M/M, Oral Sex, Smoking, Steve Harrington Is a Mess, Top Steve Harrington, Vulnerable billy hargrove
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-19 02:54:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22304113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangerHarringroves/pseuds/StrangerHarringroves
Summary: The thing is. Billy meant it. He does care. He does give a fuck. Until now, he just never knew how. Until now, everything he allowed himself to get attached too, got destroyed. Until now, everyone close to him either left or hurt him. That's why it was best to keep Steve at a distance. To take what he needed then draw back, even if it killed him to do so. He just didn't realise it was also destroying Steve.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 8
Kudos: 166





	through the embers (through the rows)

**Author's Note:**

> This was a tough one to write but I sometimes ya gotta just write some angst. There is hope for them yet though!
> 
> The title came from the lyrics to a Foals song called The Runner! Check it out! 
> 
> Comments appreciated, please enjoy x

They don't always end up like this. They do have common interests and they do actually talk and well, hang out before they fuck. They like each other. And that's okay, it's just peachy because it works? They get what they want from each other. Steve gets release, a euphoric distraction from monsters and a suture for the loneliness that leaves him raw and flayed open. Billy gets fucked into the mattress, hard enough to rattle his father's cruel words out of his mind and take the sting away from his bruises. And a reason to hate Steve when the light flickers on again.

The humidity is stifling, the scent of sex and cigarettes heavy. It's quiet, the sound of their combined breathing barely hiding the hum of the ceiling fans or the waves that continuously swallow the beach outside.

California. For Billy it's home and Steve's never been so fucking lost. A spur of the moment road-trip dotted with risqué blow-jobs in the car and dirty motel stops.

It could be paradise.

A hand slides across Billy's skin and he glances down, sighing quietly as fingers tease the sensitive skin of his thigh, nails scratching as the fingers curl. He can feel Steve shift beside him as he moves until he's leaning over, one arm bent to support his head while the other continues to touch him, nails skimming across the jut of his hip and stomach, chasing the jumping of muscles. Steve sighs just as softly as Billy, hand leaving his skin long enough to push damp curls away from his forehead, revealing the electric eyes that always seem to be tightly shut when they fuck.

Billy is beautiful to Steve but at the same time he's not; not in the way he wants him to be. Billy's all about rough edges, venom-laced tongue and detachment, well aware that Steve's in way over his head and that he's falling headlong with him.

Steve's touch returns, ghosting almost gently across a heaving chest, pausing only to tease a nipple before his head lowers and his tongue sweeps over the taut nub. Gasping softly, Billy lifts his hand, tangling his calloused fingers in impossible hair, pulling Steve's mouth away enough to tug until their lips are clumsily brushing together. Breaking the unspoken rules. And Steve would never question it, the lips that taste like salt and sweat and blood. Far too intimate for... whatever they are.

Now Billy's tongue twists around Steve's, evoking a moan and a shudder. Breathing heavily, he pulls back from the kiss, a vision of torture and exhaustion. They're both tired. Head-tired and heart-tired. But Billy's dipping his head and dragging his lips through the hair that dusts Steve's chest. A weary sigh escapes Steve and his eyes close, turning away to briefly wonder how Billy can be so gentle yet tear him apart. And as Billy nuzzles his nose into the coarse thatch of dark hair at the base of his cock, Steve can almost pretend that they could be more than this. More than the wet mouth that engulfs him once, twice, three times. Enough times for Steve's flesh to swell and flush, hot and heavy against Billy's tongue.

Steve's dizzy with it, eyes flying open wide and pupils blown. Doesn't protest when a hand is pushing him, guiding him onto his back - a clear line of saliva still connecting Billy's chin to the shaft of his cock. Then there's the unmistakable sound of the lube being popped open - yet another contradiction to their no care policy.

Billy's high up on his knees, arm twisted around, spreading himself. A deep shade of red paints his cheeks as he does, eyes cast to the ceiling, features contorted. Steve can hear his fingers. Can hear the slickness. Riles him up. Pins him in place as if Billy's knees weren't enough.

For a moment, he wants to push him away, tell him that he's tired of this and that he's tired of him but he doesn't. Steve barely moves at all, watching Billy steadily as he shifts and presses down, gasping loudly as his cock slides into his body until his ass is resting against his thighs. Hands grasping at the sheets around him, Steve clenches his jaw, swallowing a groan at the tightness of Billy's body and the heat that seems to penetrate every wall, every cell, every little thing about him until he's left open and bare beneath him, back arching and hips beginning to move against his will, thrusting up into the body of the only person that makes him feel alive and wanted, even if it is only fleeting.

Billy laughs, the sound gasping and soft, face betraying the fact that he knows what he can do to Steve. His hands slide across his own body, pausing to tease any patch of sensitive skin as he meets his thrusts, blue eyes daring Steve to look away, daring him to stop this. 

He knows Steve won't.

Releasing the white sheets from his grip, Steve pressed his hands against Billy's thighs, feeling the muscles tremble beneath his fingers as he grasps his broad hips, holding him still as he thrusts into him, hard and fast and deep, lower lip caught between his teeth as he fucks him.

Billy's eyes drift shut, mouth hanging open as his breath leaves him in harsh pants and something akin to a cry, his hands fisting in the sheets as Steve moves beneath him, telling him with his cock how much he hates him, how much he can't stand him, how much he can't live without him, how much he wants him, how much he needs him, how much he fucking loves him.

All too soon, the world falls in around Steve and he cries out hoarsely, orgasm almost breaking him in half as Billy slams down hard, hand jerking frantically, joining in a chorus of something so much more than pleasure and something that much worse than pain. Panting, Steve melts back against the sheets. With a groan Billy falls forward, tired body limp, his forehead resting on Steve's shoulder as his breath dries the sweat on his skin. Steve pulls away from his body, wincing slightly as his weight presses him down into the linen. 

With a soft sigh and a tilted head, Billy dips his head to kiss Steve, molding their lips together with a tenderness neither of them possess with anyone else. 

Pulling away, Steve stares up at Billy, hands tangling in his curls as his thumbs slowly stroke each cheekbone. Billy smiles, the grin undeniably sweet and it sickens Steve because he knows he doesn't mean it and he doesn't care and he doesn't give a fuck, even though he has given every ounce of his being over to him.

Still smiling the sickeningly sweet smile, Billy reaches over and picks up a pack of cigarettes off the night stand, handing the pack to Steve before reaching over to grab his lighter. Steve doesn't move as he pulls out a cigarette, placing it between his lips before throwing the pack aside. Opening the shiny silver lighter, he flicks it once, the small flame sending out a feeble light that reflects off the sheen of sweat covering his face and throat. He lights Steve's cigarette and breathes in the first taste of smoke as he tosses the lighter aside, shifting beside him as he takes the cigarette from Steve's lips then leans up to kiss him, breathing in the smoke he exhales there's tongues entwine. After only a few moments, Billy's teeth biting at Steve's lower lip, he pulls back, breathing out a cloud of smoke with a sigh. His fingers place the cigarette back between his lips and breathes in, sharing the smoke once more in a hot, acidic kiss. 

\--

Steve doesn't remember falling asleep. Two things surprise him when upon waking up. One, Billy is still there, right beside him. Usually he disappears for the mornings, running off to a diner and meeting Steve back in the motel carpark like their previous night never happened. Two, he's looking right into Steve's eyes and there's a scared vulnerability behind those blue hues. With shaking fingers, Billy pushes a lock of Steve's hair behind his ear and follows the line of his jaw then finally stopping to stroke his bottom lip. Steve is crying by now, silent tears dripping onto the pillow. The tears turn to heaving sobs when Billy collects him into his arms, murmuring a thousand apologies into his hair.

The thing is. Billy meant it. He does care. He does give a fuck. Until now, he just never knew how. Until now, everything he allowed himself to get attached too, got destroyed. Until now, everyone close to him either left or hurt him. That's why it was best to keep Steve at a distance. To take what he needed then draw back, even if it killed him to do so. He just didn't realise it was also destroying Steve.

From that moment on Billy vows to do better and Steve the same because even if the world is going to go down in flames, they might as well burn together.


End file.
